I’ve spent over a decade working as a strength and conditioning coach, and stepping fully into the role of an online strength and conditioning coach forced me to confront some uncomfortable truths about how people actually train. Early on, I thought distance would dilute results. Instead, it stripped away distractions and exposed what really drives progress when no one is standing over your shoulder.
One of the first athletes who changed my mind was a former semi-pro rugby player juggling a demanding job and young kids. In a gym setting, he trained hard but inconsistently, often trying to cram missed sessions into already long weeks. Once we moved online, I saw his reality more clearly through training notes and short video check-ins. Sessions were rushed, warm-ups were skipped, and fatigue carried over. We simplified his structure and focused on fewer priorities each week. The change wasn’t dramatic on paper, but his joints felt better, his lifts stabilized, and for the first time in years, he trained without feeling behind.
In my experience, remote coaching removes the illusion that effort equals progress. When athletes train alone, patterns emerge fast. I’ve watched people realize they cut depth when tired or that their setup changes late in a session. Those details show up clearly on video and in honest feedback. In a busy facility, those same habits often slip by unnoticed because everything looks fine at first glance.
I’ve also had to clean up the aftermath of poorly matched online programs. A mistake I see often is programming that assumes perfect conditions. Last spring, I worked with a recreational lifter who traveled frequently. His previous plan was rigid and volume-heavy, built for someone with unlimited recovery. Missed sessions stacked up, and frustration followed. We rebuilt his training so each workout stood on its own, with clear intent and room for adjustment. Once the pressure to “catch up” disappeared, his consistency returned and strength followed naturally.
Credentials matter in this field, but only if they guide decisions when things get messy. I’ve earned mine over the years, and what they really gave me was a framework for recognizing when to pull back. Online coaching demands that skill. If an athlete’s feedback shows rising fatigue or slipping technique, you don’t get to guess. You have to explain why a change is happening and how it serves the bigger picture. Athletes sense immediately whether that explanation holds weight.
Another moment that stuck with me came from coaching a runner who lifted to stay durable through a long season. His numbers never looked impressive, but his consistency did. When travel disrupted his schedule, we adjusted expectations rather than forcing missed work into already full weeks. He stayed healthy through a season that had sidelined him in the past. That outcome didn’t come from complexity; it came from respecting constraints.
What I value most about coaching online now is how it demands accountability from both sides. Athletes have to communicate honestly about how training feels, and coaches have to listen without ego. There’s no room for filler or guesswork. Every choice shows up in the results, or the lack of them.
After years of doing this, I’ve stopped seeing online coaching as a compromise. When it’s done thoughtfully, it sharpens focus, improves decision-making, and produces progress that fits real lives. That kind of progress might not be flashy, but it’s the kind that lasts.